


Last Salute

by Wayoming



Series: Running For The Moon [2]
Category: Doctor Who (2005), Sherlock (TV), wholock - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Ninth Doctor Era, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-21
Updated: 2012-01-21
Packaged: 2017-10-29 21:02:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/324139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wayoming/pseuds/Wayoming
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for my friend Helen, because the Ninth Doctor is her favourite.</p><p>He hadn't wanted to make friends. Making friends seemed superfluous in an environment where your new found companion could be dead at any moment. He knew that most of those surrounding him would end up dead sooner or later. And most of them sooner rather than later.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Last Salute

He hadn't wanted to make friends. Making friends seemed superfluous in an environment where your new found companion could be dead at any moment. He knew that most of those surrounding him would end up dead sooner or later. And most of them sooner rather than later.

One man however had managed to survive, had been at his side when the bullet tore through his skin, had stayed behind to fulfil his tour. He'd held John until blackness had swamped his eyes and he'd thought no more.  
He had been his best friend, until Sherlock came along, his only friend.

That's why when John Smith sent him a postcard saying he was in London and would John like to go for a pint, he couldn't refuse.

The moment he saw him in The Horses Head John was struck by how little he had changed.  
"Alright John! How you been?"  
John Smith, toothy, friendly, almost overbearingly Northern, was dresses in civvies consisting of a t-shirt, jeans and a ragged looking leather jacket.  
John scoffed at Smith's jacket.

"How long have you dressed like something out of The Matrix?"  
"Since my tour ended. I got out, saw more of the Earth. Neat place."  
"I'm glad it lived up to your expectations."  
Smith smiled. Both John's knew that the charade would fade eventually and they would have to talk about why they were really there.  
But they played pretend a little while longer. John Smith asked John Watson what he was doing now days. John Watson did not ask the same. John Smith wanted to know what living with a madman was like.  
"Much the same as living with you, Doctor."

The facade slipped and John Watson stopped playing The Doctor's game.

"Why did you bring me here?"

The last time John had seen him, The Doctor had just saved his life. Something he had never forgiven him for. Not that he hadn't appreciated it. More that the way he had been shot meant he should have died, but he didn't.

It had only been John and himself when The Doctor pushed him out of harms way, and was peppered with wounds that any normal man would have died from. John had rushed to the body, expecting to have to leave another friend behind, when the eyes had opened. And they had continued, a rather dazed John Watson trailing in "John Smith's" wake.

It had taken a couple of days, and some gut instinct, for John Watson to confront him.  
And he had told him the truth. And it had made John's head swim.

"It was true."  
Back in the here an now John was determined to get the last of the truth out of "John Smith". He remembered how The Doctor had told him that he would get shot, would survive, would have to go back to London, would meet someone very important, would change, and save countless lives. One particular life.

The Doctor took another mouthful of his drink and gazed levelly at John.  
"Yes."  
"All of it?"

"Every last word. You are meant to be here now, John. People _need_  you. Imagine what Sherlock's life would be like if you hadn't lived, Harry's, Lestrade's! You are a pivotal point in London's history. Without you, there wont be a whole lot of left."  
"Won't?"

The Doctor paused, clearly warring with himself. There was something more, something he hadn't told John.

"There is a time coming, John, where you will be in graver danger than ever before. You will see others trapped, kidnapped and almost killed because Sherlock has been set clues. He will have 5 cases he must solve, each one with a different innocent strapped to a bomb-" He paused, clearly forcing himself to tell John, "When the time comes, you will be kidnapped. And Sherlock will come for you. And the great game will be merely beginning."

The Doctor's grave expression chilled John Watson down to his bones. He wanted to get up and leave, go home, pretend that what he'd heard was untrue.  
The Doctor's next words stopped him.

"I wanted to know you were safe before I left."

John's brain started, kicking him back into reality.

"Left? Left where."  
"Here." The Doctor smiled, "Earth. I came here to make sure you lived. And you did. So I'm heading off on my way."

He downed the last dregs of his pint, stood, and held out a hand to John,

"It was an honour serving with you Captain."

John took the proffered hand, squeezing it affectionately, hardly believing he would never see his friend again.

"And with you, Doctor."


End file.
